Untouchable
by slycunningslytherin
Summary: "She's the daughter of Eve. Majestically beautiful but terribly flawed. Structured with poise and grace but tainted by vanity and spite. No one person can hold a candle to her; she isn't just a girl, but the woman of every sinner's dream." Scorpius is fascinated by the very mysterious and complicated Rose Weasley. Can he break through her walls, or will she forever be Untouchable?
1. The Daughter of Eve

She's the daughter of Eve. Majestically beautiful but terribly flawed. Structured with poise and grace but tainted by vanity and spite. No one person can hold a candle to her; she isn't just a girl, but the woman of every sinner's dream.

Words could not even begin to explain Rose Weasley, and I've had the distinct displeasure of her company for the past six years. With her closest cousin being my best friend, I've had more contact with her than any other person not related to her. Don't get me wrong- we weren't friends, or anything of that sort. In fact, we were anything but.

I would be lying if I told you I wasn't highly interested in Rose Weasley. Actually, I'd be lying if I told you that everyone in Hogwarts wasn't highly interested in her, either. When describing her, I don't even know where to begin. Maybe it was first, when we met, that was the inception of my fascination with her. After saying goodbye to my mother, my father pulled me over and placed both hands on my shoulders.

"Scorpius," I distinctly remember him saying, his words still echoing in my thoughts to this day. His eyes were tired, yet as intense as they always were, as he continued, "Don't make the same mistakes I made at Hogwarts." I looked at him in disbelief, for as I was still 11, I thought my father was flawless, all knowing, and made no mistakes.

"I made prejudices my first day, ones that I have come to regret for the rest of my life. Do not listen to your grandfather, Scorpius." I began fidgeting, as the train was about to depart for the station. "Make your own decisions."

And boy, did I make my own decisions.

I scurried into that last compartment, and the chatter died down to a hush as soon as I opened the door. A unkempt, black haired boy, an enchanting girl with strawberry blonde hair, and- the girl that immediately drew my attention- a deep blue, ocean eyed red head all turned their attention towards me.

"Dominique Weasley," the blond stuck out her hand and gave me a smile, and though she was young, she had this power over me. All I could remember thinking in that moment was how pretty she was. I shook her hand rather hesitantly.

"Scorpius, Scorpius Malfoy," I said my last name slowly, hesitantly, because she was a Weasley. Grandfather had spoke ill of them, but I saw nothing wrong. There father, I thought. My own judgment.

"Albus Severus Potter, mate," he clapped my should welcomingly. He then motioned for me to sit down across from him. "I thought my name was bad. You can just call me Al, yeah?"

The redhead sat there next to Al, quiet the entire encounter as she gazed out the window. I couldn't help but look at her, the distressed and torn aura emitting from her making it difficult for me to look away. Though they pried her to say hello, Rose didn't speak a word our whole ride to Hogwarts. At first, I thought it was just me, just because I was a Malfoy or something. I then found that the only people she spoke to were her family.

When we, as first years, trotted our way down the Great Hall for our sorting, everyone was abuzz with excitement, anticipating what house they'd love to be in, which house they'd hate to be in. Of course, the pattern will imply that Rose, in fact did not inquire once where she thought she'd be, where others thought she would be.

Of the four of us in the compartment, I was the first to be sorted. Professor McGonagall called my name, and I swaggered up to the stool. Interesting, I heard, and nearly jumped at the unexpected voice that no one else could hear. Malfoy, yes, but you are very unlike the others. Not cowardly, but strong. Hufflepuff certainly won't do, and though you are wise Ravenclaw will not either. Gryffindor... you aren't quite ready for that yet, I see. Better be... "SLYTHERIN!"

I took my seat at the table, and soon enough Albus Potter joined me. "What did it tell you?" I asked almost immediately, curiosity from the meaning of my own sorting still bubbling inside me.

"It said that it really wanted to see what my dad would've done in Slytherin," he whispered as Tristan Reymond got sorted into Ravenclaw. "But he said he would give me the choice. I chose Slytherin, I don't want to be a carbon copy of Harry Potter, you know?" I nodded, and by the time our short conversation was over, Dominique had already been sorted into Gryffindor, the hat barely having scraped her scalp.

"Rose Weasley." I immediately turned my head, and saw the girl with the auburn hair sit down. I expected to see her meek, timid, and shy but in this moment, I realized that wasn't what she was. Reserved, careful with words, and... Untouchable. With her chin held high, she far surpassed any other of us First Years with the way she carried herself.

Merlin, that girl's sorting took ages. From what I had read, somewhere, maybe the newest edition of Hogwarts, A History, this was what was called a Hatstall. A true one was quite rare, the last being the very Professor McGonagall. Known near ones were Hermione Granger, Rose's mother, Harry Potter, Rose's godfather and uncle, and Neville Longbottom, Rose's close family friend. If I had to guess, the hat was nearing on six minutes when it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The next two years or so, I noticed very many things about Rose. First and foremost, the height of her existence in Hogwarts, was that she was always surrounded by family. Usually, it was Dominique who bathed in the spotlight Rose simply did not want. However, if Dom was hanging out with me and Al, being social, or wrapped up with a boy (as she more often than not, was) then Rose would be accompanied by James and Fred, Albus, Victoire when she was still at Hogwarts, or Hugo and Lucy when they arrived.

Really, an eleven year old Scorpius didn't see why she needed "protection." Everyone knew that she could fend for herself, she exemplified quickly that she was quick with her wand and her tongue. Rose had confidence, but it was ice cold. I've gotten a nice whack or two from Albus for calling her the ice queen.

What I discovered over a few years, was that Rose Weasley was not bulletproof as I originally hypothesized. Instead, she was made of porcelain, glass, very fine china. From afar, she was beautiful, but handle it in the wrong way, and it will shatter. My obsession with shattering her glass led me to do some things I wish I rather had not. Around third or fourth year- which also happened to be around the time her hair darkened, freckles faded, and became the most fit girl in our year, after Dominique- I began to tease her, just to see if I could get a rise. I never did.

Ginger, Weasel, Bookworm, Shadow, Princess, Know-It-All, and countless more; they just didn't work. I received smooth replies, insults just as quick as I had thrown them, and she didn't even break a sweat.

Third or fourth year was also when I began spending the end of summer and Christmas at the Burrow, while Al and sometimes Dominique came after New Year's or right after the end of term. This was when I saw Rose in her most natural state, which wasn't very different, save one aspect.

One time, Al and I had to get something from Hugo's room, a broom of some sorts, back at Ron and Hermione's house. With their permission, of course, we went back, and when Al told me to wait in the living room for him, I didn't listen. I tried my best to follow him, but unfortunately, I didn't know when to turn. I just followed the music my eardrums could barely make out.

The door was only slightly ajar, but I knew it had to be her room. No one else was home, she claimed not feeling well, or so I heard. I guess I expected it to be neat, insanely-organized, and perfect just like her. What I saw doesn't even begin to be covered by a shock. Clothes were sprawled across the room, books on the foot of her bed, and ink blotches stained the desktops and even the hardwood floor. She had a bookshelf, but the titles were scattered, some horizontal and some vertical while records, old ones, probably muggle as well, that I couldn't identify were thrown into the mix. It was chaotic, all over the place, and a nut house.

I could only assume that this was her natural habitat. The side of her hand was stained black from ink, her hair held together by an old scrunch that left loose tendrils to shape the side of her face. Merlin, was she beautiful.

When Rose's sharp eyes darted towards the door, I practically froze in my place. In an instant, she was off her bed and at the door, pushing me forward and closing it behind her. I knew that I had finally hit that nerve. She was unkempt, not expecting to see anyone, and as herself as I had ever seen her be. What she said confirmed that I had found something left to be hidden.

"This means nothing," she said quickly, curt, short. "No judgments are to be made from this. It's not me."

That particular event occurred during the Christmas break of fifth year. The next year and a half went by like our first few did: Rose became, if possible, even more withdrawn.

Now, here we were. It was at the Potter's, fooling around in the kitchen with Al as Rose skimmed through a Transfiguarations textbook, to jump-start her learning for this year, no doubt. Next to her, Dominique scribbled furiously at her parchment to send an owl to her "long-term" boyfriend.

3 months for Dom was pretty bloody long. Connor McLaggen was the "love of her life."

Everyone in the room craned their neck at the sound of tapping at the window. I flicked the pane open with my wand, and two owls came barreling in, dropping 6 different letters. Four had a little bulk to them. I expected that I, for the third year, had become a Prefect for Slytherin house. However, when I opened it my smile plastered permanently across my face.

"I got Head Boy," I announced, and was followed by Albus who similarly shouted, "I'm the Quidditch Captain!" He grabbed my hand and pulled me against him, then in synchronization clamping each other on the back.

"Boys," Dominique sighed and ran a hand through her perfectly straight hair. "What about you Rosie?"

I pursed my lips together and looked at the auburn-haired-goddess intently, waiting for her to speak. Instead, her eyes attempted to bore a hole through the parchment crumpling between her fingers.

"Rose?" Albus asked hesitantly. "You got Head Girl, right? No one is more qualified or-"

He was abruptly cut off by the screech of her chair against the wood, assaulting our ears like a sharp blow. Nose held high, eyes intent and lips quivering, she slammed the paper on the desk and stumbled out of the room.

I was the one who took the initiative of getting up, to see what the letter said. I expected it to only say Prefect on it, the only reason I could think of for her to be so upset. I picked it up, and once I darted across the words "Head Girl" my eyebrows furrowed. "She... she got it."

Dominique and Albus shared a look, the one where both seemed worried and distressed. I called it the Look of the Rose. I never understood it, of course, as there was a family aspect that I just didn't understand. I missed out on eleven years, and I would never be able to pretend like I was there. So I didn't.

"Do you want to go talk to her?" Dom asked, and Al nodded his head.

"You go talk to Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione." Dominique nodded and left the room, Albus motioning for me to stay in my place. I sat there at the kitchen counter both our letters in my hand, wondering for the second time in my life if Rose Weasley had something against me being a Malfoy. I hoped I was wrong, like the first time, as I usually was.

**A/N:** So, there's the first chapter of Untouchable, my first fic! Yes, I know that things probably seem a little off. Things will (hopefully) begin to unravel in the next few chapters. What's wrong with Rose, why Scorpius seems to be such a stalker, and more will be answered, soon. In the meantime, review review review, please!


	2. The Impossible Task

A/N: Tried to get another update up pretty quick, guys, since this is a new story and all. It's a bit longer than the last chapter, as I hope the rest will also be. I really hope you like it, and please please please review! I love feedback, positive or critical!

It took two days for Rose's parents to get her out of her room. I found myself in the Weasley-Granger household often in those two days, as Dominique and Albus also took their own turns in attempting to lure the minx out of her cavern. Though Ron and Hermione (as they insisted on me calling them by their first name, something with which I still wasn't completely comfortable) insisted I tried to help, I vehemently disagreed, under the impression that I was the reason Rose was throwing this fit.

In actuality, I had no idea what was going on. I heard snippets of conversation, that in my mind I tried to make sense of, but really it made no sense to me. My understanding was that she wanted Albus to be Head Boy, for some reason that hadn't been dropped. It eased my mind to an extent, because she wasn't against me, she just wasn't against anyone that wasn't Al.

Which was understandable. Not just anyone can be my best mate, yeah?

"Scorpius?" I heard a soft voice say, one that I didn't immediately recognize. Hermione had begun to approach me as I was sitting at her counter, gathering everyone's Hogwarts letters for our Diagon Alley trip later that day.

"Yes, Mrs- uh, Hermione?" I asked.

"Do you mind if I speak to you for a moment, dear?" I nodded in agreement. She placed a hand on my shoulder and sat me down, her face becoming exponentially more serious by the second. "You've known Rose for quite a while now. I have no doubt you're going to learn some things about her this year that no one outside our family has any idea of."

I sat there, unsure as how to respond. I was partly right about Rose, how there was something hidden beneath those stormy blue eyes and fierce auburn hair. If the Brightest Witch of Her Age thought that I would be in the know while both her own daughter and I were living together within the upcoming 10 or so months.

"It's much to ask of you, I know," she continued solemnly, "But I would like your word, Scorpius. I want your word that whatever happens, you will look out for Rose. She is not what she seems to be." I didn't know what I was agreeing to, her plea being, if nothing else, vague.

"Of course," I agreed whole-heartedly. "I promise, Hermione. Though I highly doubt she needs my help, Rose will be in good hands." It was hard to believe that my father, at one point, thought so ill of the kind, motherly woman in front of me.

"That's all I ask."

Later that day, the summer sun still shone bright in Diagon Alley, despite the storm-cloud that was hovering over Rose. The kids that were of age Apparated over to the Leaky Cauldron, while the adults accompanied the younger ones via fireplace and Floo Powder. All the adults, that is, besides Harry, who for some reason abhorred the Floo network.

The journey, though short, gave me a few spare moments to think about Hermione's request. I decided, that if she saw me trying to deal with Rose, Hermione might give me advice, rescind the offer, or further enhance her viewpoint of me.

Albus and Dominique immediately wanted to go to receive new brooms, as they were promised the best in equipment before their Seventh Year. Of course, I wanted to get a new Beater's club as my old one began to split in two. Instead, I decided to take a different route.

"Rose, d'you want to go Quality Quidditch Supplies with us first, then we'll go to Flourish and Blotts?" Al inquired. Rose gnawed on her lower lip and craned her neck around to look straight at her mother.

"I'll stay with Mum." Hermione let go of Hugo's shoulders, to whom she was giving a firm scolding to about an incident with Lily, her hair and a Bat-Bogey hex. Before giving a quick glance at me, she addressed her daughter.

"Love, I was actually going to head out and go to Gringott's for some business I'm sure would interest you as much as broom shopping does," Hermione joked lightly, to which Rose did not crack a sliver of a smile to. I cleared my throat, causing the younger genius to whip her head so fast, I was sure she must've felt a crick in her neck.

"I have no interest in broom shopping, Mrs. Weasley. In fact, I really wanted to hit Flourish and Blott's, then perhaps Obscurus and Madame Malkin's?" All were most likely of interest for Rose to go to. I hit all of her interests and necessities on the head; school books, leisure reading, and new robes- I am quite intuitive, Rose grew in a few places over the summer.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Scorpius!" Hermione exclaimed, and Rose blanched in return. "Go on, love! It will be your first time bonding as Co-Heads!"

"I can just join-"

"No can do, Rosie," Lily chirped and Rose's hands began to shake. "We're also looking to go broom shopping." Rose crossed her arms over her chest. I had to take initiative, I decided at that point. If I had to get the anti-social redhead to trust me, then I would have to start somewhere.

"Where would you like to begin, Rose?" I asked, the rest of her family walking away. It was a rare sight, Rose Weasley on her own, or without her usual bodyguards. Not doubt, her wall would be an impenetrable as ever. She didn't respond, so I pursed my lips together. "Flourish and Blotts it is, then." Hesitantly, she fell behind me.

I pulled the list of books I needed out of my jean pocket. "I need a new book for almost every class, save Muggle Studies. I'm assuming that you do as well, why don't we separate, grab two of each and meet up?" I offered.

"Arithmancy."

"Pardon?" I asked at the single word that tumbled from the girl's lips next to me.

"We don't share Arithmancy." It was as if those four words were the most obvious in the world, only comparable to 'The grass is green,' 'Wand chooses the wizard,' 'Lord Voldemort was evil,' and any other common sense term I have ever come to know. Like many quips she has thrown at me, I didn't know how to respond, so I pointed towards the potions section, where I retried my share of the merchandise.

I caught up with her after 20 minutes. She was waiting in line, double the books in her hand, slipping down every few moments, her hitching them back up when they got too far down.

"Are you going to put your opinion in where we go next?" I asked, in every way anticipating pushing a button or two, getting some sort of rise from her. "Or are you going to continue the minimal contact without the consent of your cronies that some people may refer to as your family?"

Rose dumped the rest of her books onto my arms. I had little trouble carrying the weight, but the girth of the books were rather difficult to manage. Somehow, I managed to slither my wand out of my pocket to levitate the stack out in front of me. The corner of her lip was snarled into a skin-rising growl.

"I know perfectly well how to function on my own." We moved up a spot in line. Rose kept talking, much to my surprise. But, then again, the amount to which I was caught off guard by Rose would imply that being predictable would catch my attention more. "Do I take exams with Albus whispering in my ear? Does Dominique have control over the sparks my wand emits?"

I could feel a strange vibe, emitting off her, one that I couldn't quite put my finger off. I began to see sweat beads begin to trickle down her temple and getting caught from their journey from her hands to the tip of her long-sleeved shirt. I saw a slight quivering sensation and a vein begin to protrude from her neck.

"Obscurus or Madame Malkin's, then?" Again, she chose not to respond. We placed our galleons on the counter in front of us and wrapped up our books which were magic-ed back to the Potter home with the rest of our supplies. "Madame Malkin's it is, then," I decided. Still no bloody response. I was certain this bloody woman wasn't a mute. Sure, she could be quiet at times but she always knew how to quip a response at me.

The promise I made to one of the best witches in history is becoming harder and harder to keep, which made it all the more apparent why she made me keep it in the first place.

"You put down your letter so quickly, I don't think you saw," I said conversationally as Rose and I traveled down the Alley and to the shop. "But the parchment also said for dress robes to be brought to school."

"I have a nearly picture perfect memory." Bloody know it all. "Of course I saw it."

"Right," I nodded. My hand subconsciously came made its way to the back of my neck to rub it. Around her, I lost my cool, or some of it. A lot of it. Most of it. Look at me! I can't even determine how much she affects me on the scale of coolness, which I usually don't have any trouble maintaining. "If you're so intuitive, why would you think that?" Wrong question, Scorp, wrong question.

I really have no idea why that whole thing that happened in the store seemed to reveal its' ugly head was surfacing again. Her eyes were dilated in an emotion that I had no idea how to place, which made me in turn uncomfortable as I didn't know how to deal with her. Would putting my arm on her shoulder help, or unnerve her even further? Should I just continue to stay quiet? I hadn't even done that well. No wonder the Weasleys seemed so neurotic.

She was struggling the the words she was going to say yes. I saw the words dangling off her tongue, slowly going down to spill out, all the while uncertain. "You're Head Boy." A blow to my ego, she said it as if it shouldn't be so, like she didn't want it. I knew she didn't, but it wounded me all the same. "You must have some level of intelligence, can't you figure it out?"

"Well, the last time there was any sort of dance at Hogwarts was the Yule Ball. I highly doubt they would bring the Triwizard Tournament," -cue a violent flinch from Rose- "Because, you know, yeah. They won't bring it back." Maybe my stuttering, blubbering like an idiot, or whatever else I did to embarrass myself put her at ease. All she did in return was arch her eyebrow, at my uncharacteristic dorkiness and accompanied me into the shop. "So I guess my question should be, do you want to shop for dress robes now?"

"No." Abrupt as hell, as per usual. "I've never been one for galas. If it's a ball, you can bet your bottom dollar I'm not going."

"Spoilsport." I stuck my tongue out at her, and under her breath she muttered something about being immature. Me, immature? Please. We took turn up on that post no one seemed to like, because, really: who did like standing straight, only option to stare at the wall in front of him. While Rose, of course, got Malkin's herself to work on her own robes, I got the ever pleasant second hand. This woman, in her mid-thirties, and possibly subject to nepotism because her crafty-work was so damn awful that I was repeatedly getting poked with a damn needle.

On our way to the book shop that was supposed to be pleasure for the both of us, I couldn't help but complain. "Look at this, Miss Picture Perfect Memory! Look at all these pricks on my flawless skin!" My part was played rather well, I even brought my hand up to my head in apparent duress. "How is that woman even a seamstress! I think I would have done a better job, honestly."

"Scorpius Malfoy, seamstress," Rose's snarky comment carried across the warm summer air on the streets of Diagon Alley.

"It has a ring to it."

Silence, again, encased them as they entered one of the lesser famous bookstores in the Alley, that was more known for having more of a variety than Flourish and Blotts, which had more works made for Hogwarts students, those in further training for their future careers, or miscellaneous wizarding authors. However, Obscurus had many muggle authors. I had a whole library of them at home, courtesy of my mother, who passed most of her classics down to me.

"I'm looking for a copy of Anna Karenina," I decided, for some bloody reason, to tell her. Maybe I thought we could connect through books, or maybe I thought I could impress her just by being literate or something. Unable to filter the thoughts that ran through my mind, I continued, "I mean, I read War and Peace and I loved it."

"You read Tolstoy?" Rose questioned, eyebrow raised in disbelief. I caught her off-guard, and I'm relishing in it. "I didn't even know you read Muggle Literature." In my Rose-clouded mind, I made an attempt to joke and around with her, despite the fact that it usually never worked in my favor.

"Didn't you know? I've been in your Muggle Studies class the past four years." Rally, I was hoping to maybe elicit guilt, possible for not even realizing that we 'were in the same class.' It was a joke, but it like many things it did not turn out the way I had hoped.

"I didn't take Muggle Studies, you dolt," she snapped, and I blanched. Oops. Dammit, Scorp. But, I could have sworn that I saw a smile creep up her lips.

"What?" I began to blubber. "I-I thought I saw a Muggle Study O.W.L on your results." Which was, in fact, the truth. She had twelve O.W.L's, Al told me, one more than her own mother. Hermione Weasley, nee Granger, dropped Muggle Studies, yet Rose kept it. That was my reasonable thought process, I thought. You take the class, you get the O.W.L, was there something I was missing?

"I didn't take the class, but I took the exam," she vaguely explained, and I threw my hands up in the air incredulously.

"And you still got an O?" Rose then shrugged, her mum was muggleborn, two of her grandparents were muggles themselves. I even think she had a portable-Floo-caller-thingy. Mobiles, I think they called the confusing little buggers. I let it go, Rose was simply a genius. Honestly, I was second in the class, but I don't even think she had to worry about me ever catching up unless she got all T's this year (un-bloody-likely).

Rose ran her hands down the spines of different books, which was when I was first consciously aware that was already step foot in the store. She caressed The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, a book that I didn't really care for. It was too all over the place, and I didn't care for exerting unnecessary energy on a book that was of no interest to me.

"Well, are you going to get it?" I asked, and auburn hair turned to a freckled face in the blink of an eye.

"No," was her curt response. "I already read it," her voice now softening up. "Many times."

It was again up to me to gear away from the way this discussion was leading, which did not seem promising. "Do you think that if I buy a copy of your mother's book and ask her to sign it I'll get into her good graces?" I ask, pointing to her recollection of the Second Wizarding war a few aisles over. I actually already had one, but I'd read it so many times (I caught father reading it on more than one occasion as well) that the spine began to break. Inside it, she had interviews from Harry Potter more often than not, as he was the closest to many people of the dead she simply could not question, namely Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, and Albus Dumbledore. Inside, she also had recollections from Kingsley Shacklebot, the Weasley Family, and even a select few ex-Death Eater's straight from their cells in Azkaban. Really, it was a great read.

"You'll hardly need it," her voice disrupted my thoughts, which is why my eyes inquisitively widened more than they should have. "My mother adores you."

And though Rose wouldn't admit it to my face, she very much valued her mother's opinion. On every subject matter. In my wildest dreams, I hoped such matters would carry over to me.


	3. Roses and Their Thorns

**A/N:** Well, here's another chapter. I'm not sure if I introduced Lily before, but she's here in this chapter and I absolutely love writing the way I portrayed her (kind of reminds me of a famous, redhead, daughter-of-Harry-Potter version of myself. Once again, please review or favorite or follow my story, it really gives me motivation to keep going with it and updating as much as I can :)

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

August 31st was always the longest day of the year. Summer's over, so there no hope of doing anything exciting, and the day you leave for the best school in the world is a whole day away. On top of that, there's little to no hope of getting rest when thinking about the train ride at 11 the next morning. In more simple terms, August 31st, other than March 17th, the day after my birthday, is the worst day of the year. I mean, who likes waiting another 364 days until they receive presents and surprises and time with your friends?

Al and I were both seventeen, so this day before school was a bit different than the others. My brilliant best mate snuck off while we were in Diagon Alley to one of the stores that supplied the best firewhiskey in Wizarding London. I hadn't realized it until I went through my duffle bag, when I dug down to the bottom of my sack to grab a clean pair of trousers and my fingers came across cold glass. I didn't pull it out, but the Slytherin smirk automatically came out.

Dominique and Rose were at the Potter's as well that night, but they were both in Lily's room, respectively. Last year on this same night, Fred and James, Hogwarts' most trouble making duo since the former's namesake and his brother, had provided them with the same strong drink. It had become a tradition, of sorts. Al's Uncle George even showed them how to cure a brilliant hangover potion.

Once the Slytherin boys heard Harry and Ginny retire to their bedroom for the night, Al turned my duffle bag inside out to grab the dark amber liquid. "You know," I commented as he summoned two shot glasses into the room. "Turning my things inside out was much more work than, say, reaching your hand in once and pulling the bottle out."

"Yeah, and you know I've never been the..." Al trailed off for a moment as he poured the firewhiskey into the glasses which landed in a sloppy plop. "Brightest Potter in Godric's Hollow," he finished before downing the alcohol in the glass with ease.

Now, this wasn't necessarily true. Sure, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley were both remarkable wizard's and Lily really knew how to work her way with a wand, she was extremely gifted with beauty charms. James, on the other hand, scraped by in school without little effort, investing most of his energy into being a professional Quidditch player. Sure, Al didn't have fantastic grades, but he was really quite skilled at Potions. Slughorn, old and famous-craving as ever, idolized the middle Potter. Al, however, knew how to throw quite the pity party.

"Our final year starts tomorrow, mate," I commented, instead of what I usually did- point out that he was smart, and that he was a dolt for not believing so. "Crazy how time flies by."

"Soon we're going to have to figure out what we want to do with the rest of our lives." His voiced was somewhat dazed, but mostly stressed. Hell, I was second in our class and had a bunch of NEWTS in front of me, and I still couldn't even tell Slughorn what I was thinking of going into during our career meeting fifth year.

"We're going to be adults." Finally, I took initiative to drink from the cup. As soon as I emptied it, the glass refilled itself and the difference depleted from the bottle a few feet away from us. Al really was clever, despite what he may convince himself of. "Not just seventeen year olds. We'll need to get jobs and flats and..."

"Ugh," Albus practically groaned. "Scorp, let's not. We have another whole year to think about how we're never going back to Hogwarts again. Let's think of something else... Anything else."

"Quidditch," we said in unison. That, like many others, was a time that I was well aware of why we were best friends.

"Are you ready to be captain?" I asked.

"Of course I am!" He practically barked and stood up, probably to quickly on his bed. "Gryffindor won't know what hit them. James might've driven them to victory for the past two years, but Dom isn't as fit as he was to be captain. Snakes will dominate!" During the last few words of his dialogue, Al's very commonly used hand gestures took a turn for the worst and knocked over one of his silver-shaded lamps.

Surely enough, the nosiest of the Weasley-Potter clan, the girl with the Devil-red hair, Lily Potter came pattering through the room, her ears practically perked up. "What the bloody hell is going on in here, Al?" her demanding tone hit both me and her brother a lot louder, most likely because of the firewhiskey coursing through our bloodstreams.

"You better watch that mouth of yours, Lils. Wouldn't want daddy hearing his angel swear like a sailor," Al began to slur slightly, not too intoxicated but enough for Lily to catch it.

"Daddy also wouldn't want to see you halfway to being drunk off your sorry arse," Lily said, and ever-proud tone lacing her voice. In her self-righteous, princess manner, she continued, "And daddy won't have to know. Not unless you let your dear sister and favorite cousins join you."

I snorted, and Lily twirled her hair around and cast her death-glance on me. I shifted in my spot, that girl was bloody terrifying.

"Would you like to add something, friend of my brother's whom I can easily tell my dad that they are a bad influence?"

"Well, miss perfect daughter of Harry Potter who can do no harm, all I was hinting at was that I hardly think Rose will be up to a few shots of the strongest drink straight out of Diagon Alley," I coolly tried to deflate the fiery Potter in the room.

"Well, Scorpius, I hardly think that you know my cousin as well as I do," Lily crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her nose up. "All of us will be here shortly. All of us, Scorpius." It really made me wonder how one girl could be so childish yet so terrifying at the same time. The whole lot of the Weasley women made my head spin with confusion.

I felt my heart pick up pace a little as Rose, night clothes and all, walked into the room behind Dominique and in front of Lily. "You gits!" Dom squealed and sat herself down next to me, but not before smacking my arm. "If I had firewhiskey, I would've told you two right away." Lie, thought, she'd probably call up her boyfriend and get him to come over.

"Of course y'would, Dom," Albus rolled his eyes and conjured another two glasses, rather begrudgingly, at that. I didn't have any siblings, and though I always wanted them Al tried to convince me that siblings were menaces (with James and Lily as his brothers and sisters, I can't blame him). I couldn't really blame him, they really weren't that pleasant. The part of their relationship that appealed to me was that at the end of the day, they always had each other's backs. Wasn't that was family was supposed to be about?

"Way to include Rose Al," Lily sneered in reference to the Head Girl not receiving a shot glass, directly causing her brother to give the ever so common, 'I-wish-you-had-never-been-born glare.'

"Lily Luna." Salazar, she hated when people used her middle name, it made her all the more livid. "You know quite well that Rose isn't allowed to drink." Drink, obviously, having the negative connotation of drinking to get drunk.

"Not allowed?" I asked. "Al, I'm pretty sure that you're not allowed to drink, either." The room paused for a moment, an 'awkward turtle' silence encompassing us.

"Well, Dad very well knew that Al was shit-faced at his joint birthday party with Uncle Neville in July," Lily welcomed the opportunity to hurl anything she could at Al. I truly wondered where her and Dom got the desire to always be the center of attention; the other hundred or so of their cousins absolutely abhorred it. Like the brat she was, Lily was always closer to James who was confident, spoiled and a narcissist like she was. "He was very disappointed in you."

"Shut it," Albus snapped and pushed his glasses closer to his face with a rough shove. "Scorp, Rose doesn't do anything she's not allowed to do, you should know that by now." Cue death glare from said flower. "Lillian, your life is Dad's most emotionally stressful disappointment."

"Clever," Lily retorted, expressing her attitude even further with a flip of her long, straight, fire-engine red hair. "What a pathetic claim, considering I'm obviously dad's favorite. I'm his little princess."

"I would say your simply Dad's favorite girl, but James is in the running for that as well."

From what I've gathered, both Harry and Ginny Potter were emotional (namely aggressive) people. I'm no biologist, or whatever it's called, I didn't take Muggle Studies, but I'm pretty sure every one of the Potters (namely Lily) inherited this trait. Alcohol, my friends (namely the strongest firewhiskey in London), doesn't necessarily help this cause for the people involved, but it was a right laugh for those of us who had the pleasure of observing. I even saw Rose crack a grin or two.

"See, this is why we don't invite you to parties in the Slytherin Common Room," the Harry-Potter-look-alike continued his rampage. "You're so aggressive and bitchy, especially when you drink. Why can't you be all giggly like Dom?" Of course, Dominique let out a chortle, having remained relatively silent during this spat, watching it like she would a muggle tele program.

"Maybe you'd prefer me to be a man-slut like Scorpius?" This particular comment elicited a protesting 'Hey!' from me, the 'man-slut' of the room. A more passionate response, however, came from the girl who never ceased to surprise me- Rose.

"Lily," a scolding tone was hurdled at Lily who was rather unaffected by it. "I told you not to use rape-culture terms. Is that the type of society you want to promote?" The two girls began a disagreement of their very own, Rose infinitely more calm than Al was, but I clocked out for a bit. All I could pick up was Lily whining, 'Gosh Rose, you're so serious all the time.' Dom, as means of explanation, leaned over and brought her lips closer to my ear.

"Rose is this feminist. Dunno where she picked up on it, but around third year or so she read this book and became obsessed," the drunk part-Veela filled me in. "Hates it when we use words like slut, hoe, skank... that medley of insults." So, her mum must have passed down being obsessed with a cause, the elder witch being the equality of magical creatures, her daughter of women.

After a few more verbal spears, Rose suddenly became withdrawn, so she retired for the night. Dom followed her, and Lily was conflicted. She had a fight with her brother and cousin, so where did that leave her? Albus hinted, bluntly, at that, towards his inclination to her leaving, but Lily still had to be forced out of the room by me, designated bouncer/bailiff.

"Women," Al muttered, taking a swig from the last of the firewhiskey bottle. Git.

"Women," I agreed.

Waking up the next morning wasn't as terrible as every other one of the year was- solely for the reason that in just a few hours, I would be back at Hogwarts. Mr. Potter- er, Harry- always spoke of how we had a connection that he didn't have with his kids, or any of his nieces and nephews either. We didn't have homes that we considered to be our, you know, homes. Malfoy manner was always cold, barren, and too large to be considered somewhere you live, it was more of a result.

Al, I don't think, was as enthusiastic as getting up as I was. "Al," I had to repeat a few times before I even got a grunt of a response. "Bloody hell, everyone in this house has already taken a shower. Get up or you'll be smelling like you took the piss just a few hours ago. Oh wait, you did." Grunt. I smacked a pillow onto his back, which also didn't work. Finally, I took out my wand and cast an Aguamenti over his sorry arse. It got him up, but he also didn't speak to me for quite a while after that.

We met my family once we arrived at the platform, the tension between the Weasley-Potters and the Malfoys not any less palpable than it was that first time after first year. I had already informed them of my new Head Boy title via mail. Nonetheless, mother came rushing over to me in excitement. She pinched my cheeks, giving color to my pale skin and squealed in my ear about me being her baby boy, making her proud and whatnot.

"Astoria, love, don't permanently damage the boy's hearing," Father said sternly, but mum practically ignored him in return. Many people who had seen them in action testified that they were the perfect balance of warm and cold. "Who's Head Girl, Scorpius?" Immediately, I looked over to where the mound of differently shaded red-heads were gathered.

"Rose, uh- Rose Weasley, that is."

"Granger's girl?" Granger?- oh, okay, Hermione. I nodded. "Word has been spewing about the girl." Word about... Rose? I hated when he did this- mention things about what goes on in the ministry, then not elaborate. Bloody annoying, it was. We said our goodbyes, and right before I got on the train, I felt a light tap on my back.

I turned around to see Hermione, about a head smaller than I was, standing next to me. Though she was asking me for, in simple terms, a favor, her recent behavior made her even more of a pseudo-mother to me.

"I just wanted to say, thank you, Scorpius. For trying with Rose." I smiled at her sheepishly.

"Your welcome, Hermione. I..." No, telling her I care about Rose would probably not be the best idea. "I'll try my best this year." She gave me half a hug, and I boarded the Hogwarts Express, smile wide. Only a few hours until we would get back to the castle.

I made my way down to the last compartment, where we (Al, Thom Zabini, Dylan Nott, Liam Black and I) had claimed since third year. Adjacent from us were the Weasley's, with the evolution of Teddy Lupin (honorary Weasley), Victoire, Roxanne, Molly, Fred and James, Rose, Dom, Lucy, Louis, Lily and Hugo.

Al was wearing his captain's badged, which he certainly not wearing when we life the house. More than likely, Mr. Weasley (Ron, that is), made him wear it. The only disappointment he had in his daughter was that she didn't play Quidditch. It reminded me to dig my hand into my pocket to get my own badge out. Whilst I was retrieving it, the compartment door burst open.

"You don't even have your Head's badge on?" Dom asked, then waved her hand in the air. At her words, the all the blokes fell silent, for our mates got mesmerized by the 1/8th Veela. "Never mind. Why aren't you at the first compartment? You're supposed to be running the meeting with Rose."

"Don't be pushy, Dom," I groaned, not wanting to go all the way across the train just yet. "I still have-" I glanced down my watch and swore profusely "Negative five minutes."

"Unless you have a time-turner handy, mate, I suggest you get you arse down there." Al whistled in advisement. "Rose'll have your head if she has to give a whole speech alone." Hell, he would've been been right if I hadn't sprinted through the train, my fear driving me to get across the train in record time.

The muffled sound of whispers stopped as soon as I entered the room. Rose, who was sitting between Hugo and Lily, stood up. Her face, though virtually impossible to read, did not give me the inclination that she was impressed by me.

"In case you didn't know, my name is Rose Weasley, your new Head Girl from Gryffindor house," she spoke with a strange confidence that I hadn't personally seen before. She then looked at me expectantly, and I ran a hand through my hair uncomfortably. I was nervous, not because of the 24 prefects looking to me as their leader, but because of the Head Girl herself.

"Uh, I'm Scorpius Malfoy, Slytherin." Rose's lips were pursed as I spoke, then continued about the duties it took to be a prefect (aimed towards the new lot) and handed out the schedules for rounds. Damn, she was good at this leading stuff. I was oblivious to the amount of work I should've done, and what was supposed to be a two person job, she did on her own. When the meeting was over, everyone shuffled out, but as I left I felt a familiar-feeling hand on my shoulder.

"If you're going to be Head Boy, give more than a half-ass effort. I take this seriously, as should you." I couldn't muster out a response, because all I could think about was how Rose's hand was on my shoulder.

I promise, I'm not this blubbering ball of a man when I'm around other girls. As previously stated; I'm a bit of a man-slut. I don't just toy with girls for the fun of it, and I let them know that I'm not into commitment before we have more contact with each other than a casual 'Hey' in the Charms corridor. When I say I'm not into commitments, it's because of her. Rose. For some reason, my mind always carries me to the idea of 'What if I was here with Rose?' or, 'What if I was kissing Rose?' She's intoxicating, and unreadable, and mysterious but not in so many ways. I'm not obsessed. I'm just fascinated by her, is that so wrong?"


	4. The Conditions

**A/N: **I really do apologize for the long time it's been since I posted, I really am serious about this story. Applying to college and starting my senior year has been a pain, but I'm taking my winter break as an opportunity to start writing again. Please review, I really hope you like it! xoxo :*

RS/RS/RS/RS/RS/RS

The Welcome Feast was, in short, the Welcome Feast. If you've heard or read about it once, you've been introduced to the general setting of it all. Professor McGonagall welcomes us, the first years get sorted (was I really that small when I was a first year?), the Forbidden Forest is in fact forbidden (unless you get a bloody detention, then it's all fun and games looking for distressed unicorns), that curfew is at 10 on weeknights, 11 on weekends, the whole lot of information.

During the tension between Al and the males that had voiced their attraction to his sister, an owl dropped a note on my empty plate.

Mr. Malfoy,

After the first years have been escorted to their respective dorms and the castle is at rest, please pay a quick visit to my office.

My predecessor's predecessor was inclined to give hints as per these visits, as I am sure you have heard. One of your close friends was named for both of them, after all. That being said, I do not partake in such non-sense. The gargoyle that protects my office knows to let you in.

Headmistress McGonagall

"Whadditsay?" Liam spluttered across from me. He quite reminded me of Mr. (Ron, of course) Weasley, as they were the biggest eaters I have ever known.

"Close your damn mouth when you're eating," I said in an annoyed voice, for most likely the hundredth, or possibly more, time. "It's McGonagall, she wants to see me in her office after dinner. Probably some Head's business or something of that sort."

"Yeah, Rose Weasley is Head Girl, right? Saw her with that badge on her chest," Thom asked in between swigs of, most likely spiked, pumpkin juice. The bloke could literally hold his liquor like water. "Bit of a nutter, but she's quite fit," he added in a whisper to me in fear that he would get the same reaction as his previous Lily comment.

"Don't get your hopes up too high, mate," I said. It wasn't jealously, because Rose would never fancy a bloke like Thom, but in reality she had never shown romantic interest in anyone, ever. "She's not going to be with anyone anytime soon, I don't think."

"It's a shame," Dylan, who was obviously eavesdropping, added in. "Bet she's a freak in bed, must have a lot of pent up frustration under that whole ice cube act. Every time she has one of her episodes I imagine her doing that in a more... secluded area," he moved his eyebrows up and down suggestively. I locked my jaw, and Al next to my whipped his head around with a stern look on his face.

"Who?" he asked simply. Dylan went rigid. Al might've been a whiz in the Potions classroom, but the same went with a wand.

"That fourth year girl, Abercrombie, is it?" I saved Dylan's sorry arse, even though I wanted to punch him right in the throat myself. Really, I don't know what so many people had against me, I was a damn good friend.

"Anyway," Al continued in a desperate attempt to veer off the conversation. He knew it best not to pick fights when he didn't need to, especially at dinner on the first night of school. "What do you think McGonagall wants to talk to you about?" I ripped a piece off my bread and stuffed it in my mouth.

"I dunno," I said, mouth half full. "I'm almost sure it's about Heads' stuff. I didn't exactly get myself off to a good start," I said the last part in a mumble, almost hoping that Al wouldn't catch what I said. Liam was actually there, he was the Slytherin prefect since I was appointed to Head Boy, he definitely had a cleaner record than Al.

"What did you do?" he asked immediately. Bloody bat ears.

"How do you know it was me?" I retorted defensively. "Maybe it was something Rose did."

"Yeah, because Rose always starts it," Al nodded sarcastically. Liam took that moment to recap to him, in strangely perfect detail, what happened on the train, and my best mate actually stood up, leaned across the table, and smacked me on the side of the head. "You idiot! She's already stressed as it is, she doesn't need you not doing your work!" He never got this defensive over Lily. It was always Rose.

I knew it wasn't my place to argue back. Rose had a special place in Albus' heart, one Lily never quite filled. Maybe it's because Al and Rose were the same age, while Lily had Hugo, and were practically inseparable since birth. Before Hogwarts, apparently, they were much closer, but with Al being sorted into Slytherin, let alone being a male outside her tower it was just, easier for Rose to be closer to Dominique. It meant I had a chance to have a real best mate, but I'm not completely heartless, I understand that not being close to someone you still care about isn't comfortable.

I announced to the first years that they were to follow me. Some of them were quivering with fear. There are a few every year (Albus was the one in mine) that heard nasty rumors about the Slytherin dorms. That it's so dark and dreary, so cold it makes everyone paler, and that Lord Voldemort hid some sort of creature in there. It's only partially true. It's a bit darker than the rest of the castle, but I personally think it mellows the room down. It is a little cooler, since it's underground, but it's crisp. As for the creature, the Basilisk was in the bloody bathroom.

People need to be more like me, and actually read Hogwarts, a History. Not all Slytherins were icy-cold, our reputation has been dragged through the mud, even after the "non-judgmental" age we like in today. If anything, there's more of negative stigma towards purebloods. I think I've been good enough at forging my own identity throughout my last six years here for me to have proved that I'm more than my father's name (or less, depending on your point of view).

I made sure the little ones went up to their respective dorms, but not before one of the boys tried to escape up the steps as I was leaving and found himself tumbling down the slide. I grinned and remembered the first time I realized the founders of Hogwarts were much smarter than most people gave them credit for.

The walk from the common room's to Hogwarts was a rather strange one. With the Head Boy badge on my chest, I was technically allowed to be in the hallway, not sneaking away in between parties held on the first night. When I got to the gargoyle and he let me in, I automatically fixed the top of my shirt and straightened my slightly unruly hair out. I would love to say I was fixing my hair for McGonagall, but Salazar knows I would be lying through my teeth.

I wasn't surprised in the slightest that Rose was more on time than I was. What did surprise my was over-hearing bits of the conversation I was obviously not meant to hear. I pressed one side of my face against the wall so I could see through the crack and stare straight at the face that gives me so much grief, yet so much joy. Her nose was scrunched and the wrinkles on her forehead indicated that she was nowhere near happy.

"But Professor you don't understand," she whined, her voice anxious and rushed.

As stern as ever, Mcgonagall interrupted, "No, Miss Weasley, you know I do." She exhaled slowly and closed her eyes tiredly. "More than most, Rose," she said in a more calm voice, but Rose was as on edge as before.

"Yes, but not quite enough," she snapped, not showing any signs of being sorry for her harsh tone. "Not nearly. No one understands! How could anyone possibly?" her head was shaking and she ran her hands through her long auburn hair, tugging at her roots. "I'm sure you can make an exception, Aunt Minevra. I'm sure of it. So many Headmasters before you have. Dominique is in my year, I would even take Lily. Or Albus, he's close with Malfoy, I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Rose continued to speak, but her words were so hurried I could barely make anything out.

"Dear, would you like something to drink? Tea, perhaps? You're starting to-"

"I am not starting anything!" the young witch responded shrilly, her ocean blue eyes starting to flare up with an emotion I only saw in her eyes on her worst days; the ones where she wouldn't say a word, and I dare not provoke her.

"Miss Weasley, if you're having another one of your moments, I can get Lily or Dominique, even Albus or Hugo up here in an instant. I can understand your condition can be quite-" I had never seen McGonagall look so out of her element, unaware of what to do. She was the most in control women I knew, but next to Rose... I couldn't help but wonder what McGonagall was alluding to.

"What condition?" Rose asked. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I've been close with your family, and you, a long time Rose. Ignoring the problem, as many people have told you, doesn't make it go away." Rose turned her head so she was facing the window, and when there was a lapse in conversation so I took my opportunity to make my entrance, as if I heard nothing and walked in.

"Hello, Professor," I acknowledged, then looked at Rose until she turned around. "Rose," I said and she said nothing, sitting down in one of the two empty chairs in front of McGonagall's desk.

"Mr. Malfoy, please," the Headmistress waved her hand at the seat in front of me. "I just wanted to discuss a few matters. I won't take too long, you must be feeling tired from the train ride." Yeah, right McG. I was heading to a Slytherin party after this. "One, your duties are heightened from last year. You can dock points along with assigning detentions, you are each other's partners for rounds at 10 every night."

She went on for a bit, like reciting a drill manual. I had a creeping suspicion that Rose knew all of these elements, including the next one. "Finally, you will have the Head Dorms to yourself."

"What?" I practically spluttered. "Why haven't I heard about these so called 'Dorms?'" McGonagall looked taken aback by my question. Rose finally looked at me.

"I can think of a few reasons," she muttered, turning back around. "Probably because a bimbo girl or Slytherin guy haven't been a Head in years."

"Ro- Miss Weasley," McGonagall scolded. "Of course, I would like minimal people to know about this," she directed that statement towards me. "And, I'd sleep much better at night with the knowledge that my Head Boy and Head Girl are getting along. There is a reason why both of you are in this position, which I'm sure you will realize in time."

We were dismissed, and when the hall came to a split, I could either decide to go to Albus and party, or cross to the other side of the castle and take Rose back to the common room. I realize that I could have gone to both, dropped her off and then went to the party, but it was a long trek up three flights of stairs to make after a party which I would love to have gotten sloshed at. Rose stopped, so I did as well.

"I know my way back, McGonagall's directions could've directed a first year through the castle," she muttered and began walking without me, as if to prove a point that she could.

"And yet, I don't think I've ever seen you walk alone," I said loudly, jogging for a few paces trying to catch up. She took a piece of her hair and tugged at it.

"I have," she retorted. I shook my head and let her have it. It was late and I really wasn't in the mood to bicker with her at this point.

"All I'm trying to say is," I sighed, and she looked at me with curiosity in her eyes, "That maybe this is a good opportunity for you. Going outside of your comfort zone. Maybe you'll even make a few friends outside of your family this year. You can't only talk to them forever." I really hope she knew I wasn't saying that to be an arse, because in that moment I wasn't.

"You sound like my bloody mother," she muttered. "And McGonagall. Albus as well."

"Have you thought that maybe they have a point?" I was greeted with silence.

"Dmitri," she said. I clenched my jaw.

I liked to believe that I was relatively well liked. I might've rubbed a few people the wrong way, but I really didn't think that I had enemies. Dmitri Volkov was the sole person in Hogwarts I hated, and Rose had heard me bitch about him enough times to know that he was the bane of my existence.

Albus liked to joke that I hated him because he was everything that I wasn't. I was just over 6'0, he was almost 6'4. I only knew English and the little bit of French I picked up through lessons when I was dozing off, he was fluent in 4; English, Russian, German, and Portuguese. He went to a wizarding school in Russia, Koldovstoretz, before he transferred here his fourth year and I've lived in Wiltshire my whole life. He had a damn chin-strap, and in the past 17 years I haven't been able to grow one shred of facial hair.

I'm not jealous of him, really. I mean, I got Head Boy this year. He was just a Gryffindor Prefect. The only real thing he had over me was that he was Quidditch captain of the undefeated team of the past three years (since he's been on the team). Apparently he was trained by Viktor Krum himself. Al was our brilliant seeker, he hasn't missed getting a snitch since fifth year. As amazing as he was a seeker, he was trumped by Dmitri's chasing skills.

I knew what Rose was trying to get at. He was very much like her, quiet, well read, didn't really party all that much (only during Quidditch after-parties). They were Prefects together for two years already, and I know that McGonagall would not have put someone untrustworthy next to Rose. Maybe that's what made me hate him even more, that unlike me, he was a relatively genuine person. His tight knit group of friends called him 'D,' and I couldn't help but call him another name that starts with D inside my head.

"What does Volkov have to do with anything?" I asked harshly, though I knew the answers. I guess I didn't really think about all the time he was spending with her, on a rotation of two hours every 10 or so days, how often they must have spoken about a million more topics than we did. I wasn't jealous, though, I'm Scorpius Malfoy.

"He's my friend," she said, without much conviction in her voice. I hardly doubted she was one of his Quidditch mates who called him D, though the rest of her family was rather close to him because of the sport. Hugo idolized him, as his fellow chaser, and Lily and Dominique... well, they had many a conversation about him I wished I could erase from my mind.

I felt this incessant need to impress her all the time, and as we reached the portrait of a Greek god and goddess with Dmitri in my mind, I spewed the first quote that came into my mind. "A slender acquaintance with the world must convince every man that actions, not words, are the true criterion of the attachment of friends."

She rolled her eyes. "What?" I scrambled to think of a reason why the only think I could think of with the word acquaintance came into my head. I shook my head and bit my bottom lip.

"Nothing. It's just that you should know the difference between someone you talk to on a patrol as compared to someone who can be your friend." My words were slow as I placed my hand on the rim of the portrait, and she just stood there, proud as ever with her hands placed firmly on her hips.

"Because you're my friend, right Scorp?"

The woman in the portrait, who was three-quarters naked, asked us to come up with a password for our room. I grinned and said, 'Friendship.' Rose scoffed and pursed her lips, but did not disagree.

I'm quite used to a nice living space between my house and this castle, but even this was a little surprising. It was well lit, as compared to my fair share of experience in the dungeons and my dreary home, and had a very "homey" feel to it. There was a small kitchen to the left of a short hall, and a bathroom to the right. With a peak in, I grinned at the large tub, not quite as big as the Prefect's, but definitely enough to have a few people in it.

At the end of the hall was an entrance to a common room of sorts, with a library of books covering the walls, plush chairs and sofas surrounding a fire, and a few desks in a crevice of the side of the room. The color scheme was silver and gold, green and red, and reminded me very much of Christmas. Rose looked content as well, and I couldn't help but think that the set up wasn't as much for me as it was for her. She looked comfortable, safe.

"Goodnight, Rose," I said as she walked up the steps to her room (easily identifiable, 'Rose' was written in cursive over the stairwell that led to it). She turned around, and though she didn't frown, she didn't smile either. Her blue eyes bore into mine, as if she was trying to tell me something. Then the moment, as quickly as it arrived, was gone with the swish of her skirt following her as she trailed up the stairs.

My room was very open with a lot of windows and a mix of white and grey furniture. It was modern, and in the daytime I'm sure it would get a lot of light. I smiled to myself, this was more of me. I could handle the other room, however, nothing was as bad as the drawing room in Malfoy Manor. The few times I'd been in it, all of them resulting with me getting punished by my father, I couldn't help but be mildly scarred by the bleakness of it.

Taking my clothes off, just leaving my pajamas, I got under my blankets and took out my wand to turn the lights off, but I knew I wouldn't be sleeping tonight. My mind raced at the thought of the girl lying just a few feet away, and how she would be for another three hundred days.


	5. Curiosity: Lust of the Mind

**A/N:** Oh my goodness, the positive reviews I'm getting are making me so happy. I'm glad a lot of you were a fan of my character development, that's my favorite part of writing. As for the grammar, I tend to rush while I'm writing so I'll look back and clean it up and be a little more careful before posting. This is more of a filler, so it's a little slow, but you get to see more of Dominique and Lily. Thank you again everyone, I hope you're all having a happy holidays! :) xoxo

RS/RS/RS

When I opened my eyes the next morning, I forgot where I was for a brief moment. Sunshine was pouring through the windows and penetrating the sheer curtains, but it did its job. I was wide awake and ready to begin my last first day at Hogwarts. There was a small bathroom attached to my room, which I assumed was conjoined with Rose's (as there was a door on the opposite side).

As the water was running, a towel hanging low on my waist, I took a moment to look at myself in the mirror. I ran my hand over my cheek, trying to picture myself with a 5 o'clock shadow. I had to ask Al if, maybe, there was some spell to make facial hair grow faster.

Even after months of bating in the sun and spending the summer outside, I have nothing to show from it. Besides getting a little pink on my nose, I still felt like a ghost. My body was practically glowing, it was so pale. I was wondering about why I was practically albino as I got dressed in my uniform, I didn't feel focused, probably from a lack of sleep. The first night in a new environment is always the worst.

I sat down on the sofa nearest Rose's room in the common area. I didn't even know if she was awake yet, I didn't hear any movement through the walls. Not that I was listening for her, or anything. I decided to be a good co-Head and make her a cup of coffee to start the day (though it did take me a while, I wasn't sure how to get the water hot until I just boiled it with magic).

Rose came down, her hair tied in a pony tail with fly-aways shaping her face, looking like she hadn't slept all night. I wouldn't doubt it if she didn't. I immediately wanted to ask if she was okay, but I knew that however she felt, her response would be 'fine.' So instead, I handed her a to-go-cup of coffee that might not have tasted the best, but surely had an effort.

"Here, I made it for our walk to the hall," I offered and she took it, popping off the lid to see what was inside. "It's coffee," I said stupidly, as if she wouldn't tell by the light brown, strong smelling liquid inside.

"I don't drink caffeine." She shoved the cup back into my hand roughly, and as a result some of the scorching hot drink spilled over my hands. I dropped the cup because of the unexpected burn on my fingers, making a unpleasant mess on the floor and even a few drops of coffee on my pants. I cursed and performed the only cleaning spell I knew, a _Scourgify, _and followed Rose out the door.

I ran into her, actually, as she was standing outside, right in front of the portrait hole with Al and Dominique. The part-Veela was whining about how empty the 7th year girls' room was without her best friend, and I even saw Rose crack a smile. Dom tugged on her friend's arm and dragged her down the hall, not even taking a look back at me and Al.

"I had the situation under control." After hearing the words that came out my mouth, I realized that, yet again, I had put my foot in my mouth. "I just meant that I could've walked her by myself." Al scoffed.

"Yeah, I'm sure you two are well on your way to being best mates," he said sarcastically.

"Hey!" I snapped defensively. "I can be a warm, inviting person if I want to." Al laughed and I uncomfortably shifted my backpack on my shoulder. "How many times a week do you shave?" I asked him and he looked at me, utterly confused.

"What?"

"How many times a week do you-"

"Yeah," he waved his hand. "I know the question. It's just weird to hear from you considering you're a hairless cat." I gritted my teeth and practically growled, but he continued anyway. "I don't shave, my father shaves. It's quite old fashioned. I put this potion on twice a week, it keeps the hair off my face. Why?" I stroked my face and he muttered something along the lines of 'Oh no.'

"I'm thinking about growing a beard. Do you think there's some sort of spell, or potion maybe, that accelerates growth?"

"In case you can't tell, I'm not much of a beauty guru, mate," he said as we entered the Great Hall and took our seats at the Slytherin table. "Maybe we can ask Dom, I'm sure she's probably read something in Witch Weekly or one of her magazines." I swear, the ever-hormonal Dylan's ears perked up at Dom's name, but I just shook my head as a warning sign.

We all ate our breakfast, but mostly in silence on my part. The guys were just talking about how it was a little off balance with one less bed in the room, but so much better without my lengthy shower in the morning. When they asked me about my new living quarters, I gave them a brief description. I wasn't in the mood for talking. In fact, I couldn't remember the last time I really was in the mood for talking.

McGonagall gave us our timetables for the year. My head began to hurt just looking at it, and it seemed that my friends had, at most, half the schedule that I did. It really made me second guess my choice in friends. While I would be NEWT level Transfigurations, Al, Liam, Thom _and _Dylan would be enjoying a free period. Bloody unfair if you ask me. I'd probably be stuck in a class full of know-it-all Ravenclaws.

My shitty mood was only heightened when Dmitri, with Hugo on his tail, made his way over to our table. "Incoming," I muttered to Al, who smirked and turned around, giving him a respectful wave.

"Volkov," Albus greeted. I put my head down and began ripping my bread into several pieces.

"Potter." His thick Russian accent assaulted my ears. "I wanted to talk to you about scheduling the Quidditch Pitch for practices. I'd really like to cooperate as captains this year." Al grinned and shook his hand. Volkov was pretty damn lucky Al was captain and not me, I would've shot down his obviously phony proposal in a heartbeat.

"Makes my job easier," Al shrugged, grabbing his bag and singing it over his shoulder. "Bring a few members of your team to the library, we can work something out." Al was really a sneaky bastard, he knew very well that just about half the team was comprised of his family. I immediately got up to follow him, but he waved me back down. "Scorp, don't you have History of Magic this morning?" He was right. Twit.

"Yeah," I said, deflated. "C'mon, Thom," I said. He wanted to be a journalist after Hogwarts, even though he really wanted to go in the Quidditch direction, this class was a requirement. "Let's grab Rose," I said and he looked at me funny. I ignored it and he followed me to the Gryffindor table.

I guess Lily didn't feel like pawning for Dmitri today, because she was still with Rose, and she was the first person who greeted me when I reach them. "Morning, Scorpius. Did you have fun last night stealing my favorite cousin away from me?" Her voice was simply too much to deal with at 8:00 in the morning.

"You're not as stupid as you act, Little Potter." I returned, and her mouth made a small 'O.' "You know very well McGonagall assigned the living arrangements." She closed her lips and pushed her food forward, standing up quickly.

"It seems that the Scorpion's presence has made me lose my appetite," she looked expectantly at her cousin, who began to stand up hesitantly.

"We're in Rose's next class, we can walk with her," I offered, gesturing between Thomas and me. Lily scoffed.

"Right," she nodded sarcastically. "Because she really wants your company so early. Or at all."

"We are going to the same place!" I exclaimed.

"It doesn't matter! Rose-" Lily was then abruptly cut off.

"Rose can speak for herself," the person of interest said in a low, but dangerous voice. Lily and I just looked at each other for a moment as Rose got up from her place. "I can walk myself, I am not a child." As she walked away, Lily began to follow her but Rose warned- "Do _not_ follow me Lily Luna Potter!"

Lily's eyes fell into a glare as she looked at me. "Do you see what you've done? Are you satisfied?" She jabbed her finger at my chest, but when she tried to make her dramatic exit, I grabbed her arm. "Let go of-"

"Shut up," I hissed. "Her mother, your aunt, specifically told me to watch out for her this year." I threw my hand in the direction Rose had just left. "She can't be sheltered, reliant on you her whole life, Lily. Not just you- your whole family, even." The youngest Potter knew I was right, which is why she didn't respond. She yanked her arm back, more roughly than I even grabbed it, and fixed her shirt.

"Bye, Thom." Merlin, her sickly sweet voice drove me on edge. Her obviously forced smile was more fake than Professor Slughorn's wig.

"What the _fuck _was that?" Thom asked harshly. We were walking out of the Great Hall, and I was really hoping he would be more like Liam and mind his own bloody business. But no, he was Thom, so I had to come up with some explanation.

"You heard me, I'm sure." If you can't tell that my voice was dripping with sarcasm right now, I probably haven't been conveying myself correctly. "I told Mrs. Weasley that I would befriend Rose, watch over her." Thom gave me the arch of his eyebrow.

"You did not just get into a verbal smack-down with Bitch Potter because _Mrs. Weasley _told you to, mate. It's practically a suicide mission."

"Maybe not," I said curtly. "But that's the best you're getting for right now." But that wasn't only the best I could give him, it was the best I could give myself. Second guessing yourself, your motives your actions- it isn't fun. And I was thinking that maybe, it would've been best if I backed off Rose a little bit.

When I saw her sitting alone in History of Magic, however, that suggestion to myself turned to naught.

"You're on your own," I told Thom and sat down next to her. Her head rose to look at who it was, and began to push her chair back. I stopped her with my hand. "Rose, I just wanted to apologize for this morning. I was actually trying to-"

"Humiliate me?" she didn't look at me, but instead got her notes out and stared straight ahead at the board that Binns would be floating through at any moment. "Treat me like a child?Congratulations, you succeeded."

I don't usual feel too much guilt, even when it comes to Rose Weasley. That was a trait I had learned straight from my father. When he felt guilty about the way he treated Al's family, he invested a lot of money into charities that helped those who were affected by the war, so he would owe no favors. It escapes me that I even know what the word emotion is, though my father tried his best to be the best parental unit he could... I could never call him, 'Dad.' That says enough about our relationship, I think.

History of Magic would probably have been my favorite class, if it wasn't for the ghost for the teacher. I found the subject matter fascinating, as I'm sure many others would if it wasn't taught by a vapid, monotonous ghost teacher. It really was a shame, if so many careers didn't require this class, not many people would have taken it.

An introduction to this year's course load and an hour later, I was done with my first class of my last year at Hogwarts. I departed to Muggle Studies, my only class without Rose, who hadn't spoken a single word to me all of History of Magic. I couldn't say that I was surprised. She had left the class so quickly, I couldn't fit in a single word to her. At least if I wasn't befriending her, I was at least leading her to being able to fend for herself. That had to count for something, right?

Al stopped me, right outside the door to my new room. I had actually started to go to the Slytherin common room out of sheer habit. I tried to keep walking, but he continued to get in my way. "What, are you done chumming it up with your friend, Volkov?" I asked. Al gave me a, 'really?' look.

"Don't be like that, Scorp," he pleaded. "You know why I couldn't have you at that meeting, you would have blown your top. I needed him not to get riled up, either." He was right, of course. I'd never admit it, but he was.

"Whatever," I muttered. "What's our schedule, then, Mr. Captain?"

He didn't look pleased, but it's not like he couldn't tell me, I was his best beater. "Right now, actually. That's why I came to find you. We have practice from 4-6 Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons, and from 6-8 a.m. Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"In the morning?" I whined. "We've never had a.m. practice before."

"This is exactly why I didn't want you at the meeting. The Gryffs have three morning practices, consider us lucky." Why the hell would I be grateful for having to wake up at 5:30 a.m. for bloody practice? Al really wanted to get the cup this year... and I really had a lot of pent up anger and general frustration that was only a bludger and a beater's bat away.

All of practice, I pictured every ball as Dmitri Volkov's perfectly-facial-haired face.

I was already sore, walking back to the Head's common room. It was further than the walk to Slytherin, about twice as far, in fact. I swear my legs also hurt twice as much. I wasn't planning on Rose being in the common room when I got back, so I was just going to drop my stuff off and take a hot bath in the main bathroom, the one with the pool-sized tub. I muttered the password to the Greek couple painting, who were trying to banter with me, but I was just too damn tired. The last person I wanted to run into was Dominique.

There are people who say that being exhausted and drunk are practically one in the same. If my drunk thoughts did not leave me wanting to know more about Rose, they usually led me to think about how bloody hot Dom was. She was like a mate to me, so I obviously never acted on my attractions. However, she was part Veela, for Salazar's sake. I was a little flustered when I saw her, just her after she bumped into me.

"Scorpius," she greeted, bubbly as usual. Ah, that was another reason why I would never act on any sexual feelings towards her. She was too peppy, too positive, always upbeat. Don't get me wrong, those are all fine qualities... just not what I want to be around at all hours of the day. "How are you?"

"Fine, Dom," I waved off, walking around her.

"You don't _sound _fine," she pressed. She was my shadow as I put away my broom and bat in a closet. I liked to carry my broom, not leave it in the sheds by the Quidditch pitch. What if people decided they wanted the best equipment money can buy, and took it? You never know what people will do these days.

"I just came back from the pitch, and I haven't practiced in months. You know how it is." She should have, at least. Dom was was a keeper, she was pretty good too. Better than the 4th year Slytherin keeper, at least. He was a mess, Volkov, Hugo and Lily would take a shit on him.

"I'm sure." She was rather disbelieving, if I had to make a guess. "Because this crappy attitude you've been sporting for months, years even, is because you're tired from Quidditch." What was she talking about? I was a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day.

"Right, because you know me so well, Dominique."

"Just because Al is the only person who knows more about you than your name and disdain for life doesn't means he's the only one who tries." I looked at her and ran a hand through my hair, half of it sticking up because of the sweat still damp in it. "Godric, I swear you and Rose are so alike. Fall from the same bloody pumpkin tree."

I raised an eyebrow. "Dom, pumpkins don't fall from-"

"Goodnight, Scorpius," she cut me off. I couldn't wait until the next Hogsmeade trip. I grinned, and a light-bulb went off in my head, a way to get a step closer to Rose's good side.

I took out a quill and piece of parchment, and set up Hogsmeade dates for the rest of the semester, correspondent to weeks that would be most convenient, without Quidditch matches or practices, before major holidays for those procrastinating gift givers, and not in the middle of exams. Dominique was wrong, I have not been scorned from life. There was still some good in me. I guess if you're inclined to Thomas Hobbes' theory of philosophy, you'd say that I've _grown _to be a little 'good,' because all humans are born evil, and act on selfish instincts.

I'd say that Hobbes has a point, because the only time I could be remotely virtuous was when Rose Weasley had something to do with it.


End file.
